


Their Many Nights

by AuroraNoirInStardust, Elopez7228



Series: Reylo smut fest ficlets - English [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Brief moment of domestic violence, Dubious Consent, F/M, Ficlet, Irene of the Sands of Jakku, Kylo tries to be tough but Rey kicks his ass, Kylopold Benedict Soloren of the First Order, Loss of Virginity, Renaissance AU, Reylo - Freeform, This hurts, and OMG he's gonna worship her for that, and learning pleasure together, dubcon, good old missionary position, it will get better, kudos to Kylo for managing a hardness, loss of virginity is NOT all fun and games, seriously, she's not taking any of his shit, snoke is watching, this is a story about learning to know each other, though not in the first chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-10-29 22:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17816684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNoirInStardust/pseuds/AuroraNoirInStardust, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elopez7228/pseuds/Elopez7228
Summary: Kylopold Benedict Soloren of the First Order is being wed to Irene "Rey" of the Sands of Jakku. Wedding went well. The girl doesn't seem enthousiastic, but he is. She's his wife now. And they will get to know each other. Loss of virginity is not too often a smut fest... it might actually be painful. But they'll have many nights to learn love, passion and pleasure.





	1. The first night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luciefee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luciefee/gifts).
  * A translation of [Toutes leurs nuits](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17692253) by [Elopez7228](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elopez7228/pseuds/Elopez7228). 



> SO MANY THANKS to my beta reader, auroranoirinstardust!  
> I'm translating this story from French (my first language) to English (not my first language) and she did a terrific job making the litterature readable.  
> I hope you enjoy.

Rey took a deep breath as Rose braided  her hair. 

“You’re going to be okay, Ma’am” The young servant said. “Don’t worry”. 

Rey did not answer. 

The wedding ceremony actually went alright, for what she made of it, at least. She didn’t have much experience in weddings… Yet there hadn’t been any fights or trouble, no wars were declared, the mass was solemn and the dinner, sumptuous. 

All of which she hadn’t expected. Both their kingdoms had been rivals ever since humanity could remember. Centuries of conflicts had wiped out their populations, depleted the land and weakened them against hoards of new enemies, flowing from farther territories. The First Order, lead by the Soloren dynasty, ruled the outer territories; a feudal regime with powerful armies. They had restlessly tried to conquer the dry lands of the Sands Federation, which built an empire on its soil’s minerals and merchants’ efficiency, selling their ore to the known world. 

Irene of the Sands of Jakku, known as “Rey”, was a daughter of the Desert, heir of the allied barons Plutt, Hutt, Watto and Tanaka. Her alliance to Kylopold Benedict Soloren of the First Order, ten years her senior, was the key to the peace between their Empires and the birth of a new army, large enough to resist the new invaders. 

Rey was rather anxious at the idea of meeting the powerful Lord who she was about to offer her kingdom, her soul and her body to, in the name of an ideal peace for future generations. She had received a painted portrait of him as an engagement gift. But having seen him now, face to face, that portrait had failed to really capture him. Of course he had the height, shoulders, nose and forehead, but his gaze was different.

Rey was surprised to see softness in his eyes when everyone seemed to agree that he was an impulsive, violent man. Was he playing quiet for the ceremony? Was he trying to make a good impression on his wedding day? Around her, he had been nothing but kind- courteous even- holding her arm when she tumbled on her dress. 

The wedding was now to be consummated, in order to seal the pact between their nations.

But Rey wasn’t sure was this meant. She knew he’d have every right to her body as her husband. But how? All she was told was that she’d be naked, she was not to deny any of his requests, she was to surrender to all his demands, she was not to cry or show signs of displeasure, and last but not least, she had to bleed and stain the bedsheets.

And that part scared her most of all. Bleed? How? Was he going to injure her? Butcher her in some way?

It was forbidden to cry and yet, she felt panic build in her core, her breath speeding up.

Rose took her hand, softly:

“Ma’am, it may hurt, but it won’t last. Don’t be afraid. You will eventually enjoy it, I promise.” 

Enjoy blood and pain?! 

The young servant resumed getting her ready. Rey was wearing a ceremonial nightgown: a floor-length white cotton dress with ruffles and lace, tied at her wrists and neck, over a pair of split pants covering down to her ankles. Her hair had been brushed carefully and braided with white ribbons, now hanging down her back. The thick white powder covering her face for the ceremony had been cleaned off, and Rose had only applied a light touch of rouge on her cheeks and lips. 

“You are all set now, Ma’am”, Rose smiled to appease her. “They are waiting for you.”

 _They_. 

Rey had forgotten about that. There would be an audience to watch the ritual- to confirm her virginity and testify the wedding had been fully ‘consummated’. 

Consummate what? Consummate who? 

Rose opened the large double doors between the Lady and the Lord’s bedrooms. 

The bride, already feeling weak, paled as she saw the pack of people attending the Claiming ritual. Parents and guardians of Kylopold Soloren- Lady Organa and the Archbishop Snoke- officers, officials, clergymen, secretaries and lawyers, all chatting mindlessly with each other as if they were expecting an entertaining show. She saw her own guardians, Unkar Plutt, along with Maz Kanaka and the constable Zuvio. 

Kylo - as she started to call him to make him less frightening - was standing on the other side of a massive four-poster bed with white curtains. 

Rey took a deep breath, raised her chin, and proudly walked to the bed. Her gaze searched for her husband’s, yet he refused to meet her eyes. He showed no sympathy, no support for her in his demeanor. He looked the part of the brave soldier, ready to do his duty. Rey’s heart broke. 

Lady Organa held her hand and helped her get on the bed, lying on her back. Kylo joined her. He was wearing a long shirt like her, but all black, and pants tied under his knees.

The curtains were then closed, but not entirely, leaving 8 inches on each side for the audience to peek at them. 

The young bride stayed still on her back, having no idea what was expected of her. ‘Do not cry, do not show pain, let him use your body as he wishes, let him take whatever he wants.’ 

“Lift your legs” A creepy voice said from outside the curtain, and Rey didn’t immediately understand who was talking to her. 

Her husband tilted his chin, urging her to obey. Rey lifted her knees, puzzled. 

She shivered with disgust as she saw, coming towards her through the curtains, the hideous face of the Archbishop. 

“Spread your legs”, he instructed. “I will now check for your virginity.” 

Feeling anxious, Rey reached out her hand for her husband’s support and he softly took it. 

“Do as he says, he won’t hurt you.” He whispered. 

So, she obeyed. She felt something cold against the inside of her thigh, (the bishop’s crozier?), and closed her eyes. 

A tear rolled down her cheeks as the ice-cold metal crozier spread her legs. She gasped as it slid lower, down her legs to her privates, resting at a place no one had ever touched, not even herself. She felt the metal begin to part her folds and she sucked in a terrified breath. With that, Kylopold sat up. 

“Enough now.” He said. “You have seen enough. Share your verdict.” 

“The Princess is a virgin,” declared the Archbishop. “My Lord will have to confirm this afterwards, or the union will be declared void. Now do your task.” 

The metal shaft moved away from Rey’s legs, who released the breath she was holding. The curtain shivered. Behind the fabric, the audience seemed to be getting nervous, their murmurs growing in intensity. 

A soft hand wiped the tear on Rey’s cheek. She opened her eyes, and met her husband’s, face close to hers. He was gently running his fingers in her hair. 

“My Lady”, he whispered, with a voice low enough not to be heard by the crowd outside the curtains, “I don’t want to hurt you. But you must know that virginity loss can be painful. Breathe, let me be in charge. The faster we do this, the sooner they will leave this room.” 

She nodded, her voice broken inside her throat. 

“We shall have many more nights”, the young Lord added, “And I will teach you. But tonight does not belong to us.” 

“I know”, she answered. “I am ready.” 

Her husband ran his finger on her cheek, following the curve of her jaw, and pulled her chin towards himself and she gave herself over to him. 

He was studying her, his dark eyes discovering her features, the golden freckles on her cheekbones, the soft tremble of her lips. Slowly, he leaned closer and kissed her. 

She had never been kissed before. It felt good. His lips were thick and soft and smooth against her mouth. She politely returned the kiss. 

He did it again, and the commotion behind the curtain increased. Someone was describing the action for those in the back.

Rey closed her eyes, letting herself relax into this second, deeper kiss. She shivered as the tip of a tongue slid against her mouth, and she opened her lips out of instinct. She leaned against her husband’s warm, large chest. Their lips found a slow and natural rhythm. She sighed as she felt herself grow brave, letting her tongue touch his lips, delve into his mouth, seeking out his as he had done to her earlier. 

She knew she was supposed to stay very still, but could not resist the urge to seek out his body with her hands, touch his shoulders and rake her fingers into his thick, dark hair. 

He moaned as she did and with a shift of his body, lifted himself above her. He was heavy, but he supported himself on his elbow to not crush her. Rey didn’t know what to do with her arms and legs. So instead, she focused on the kiss, relishing the feeling of his mouth on hers. 

Kylo’s left hand moved down against her stomach, lifted up her nightgown, and touched her between her thighs. As he started to slide his hand up her nightgown, she opened her legs on instinct, and he took that movement of hers to move his hand higher, finding the opening of her pants.

She felt his fingers there, at that secret place she’d been taught to guard and her eyes opened wide in panic. 

He pressed his forehead against hers, as to reassure her. “I…” He started. “You are very pretty.”

Was she supposed to answer that? Thank him maybe? What was the protocol? 

Her mouth opened, frozen in surprise and shock as she felt a thick digit play at her opening, trying to slip inside. Her whole body contracted in fear, barely allowing the the tip of him inside her.

“Please relax”, he whispered, “Or it will hurt. Take a deep breath. Trust me.”

She bit her lip. Relax?! She was not at all prepared for his intrusion in this part of her body. She knew that things happened down there- some liquids came out, such as urine and blood from time to time. But no one, not even herself, had touched that area and more over- nothing had ever been inserted inside. Yet, Kylopold had just inserted his finger, pushing it deeper against the tightness of her body. Rey frowned. It wasn’t exactly painful, really. It was…more uncomfortable. It stretched and burned. It felt wrong. 

“What are you doing?” She asked, a bit frightened to disobey the rules but too puzzled to remain quiet. 

“I’m getting you ready”, He answered. 

His finger was removed and she sighed in relief. Was that it?  It hadn’t been that bad. She could survive such ceremony if she had to. 

But Kylo moved to lick his finger, sucking it deeply, slicking it with his own saliva and inserted it right back. This time, it slipped easily inside her fully, and she felt grateful: though still uncomfortable, this wasn’t frightening now. 

His finger started moving inside her and she blushed, holding on to his shoulders, looking into his eyes. She was asking silent questions, but the only answer he gave her was to kiss her deeply. 

Their audience was quiet, waiting with baited breath.

No more chit-chats or conversations, only tension and anticipation. How long was this supposed to last? 

Kylo removed his finger again and Rey felt him fumble with his pants, against her thighs. 

The next moment, she felt something on her skin. It was warm, hard and soft altogether. She bent her neck to see and supposed that strange object against her leg was her husband’s penis. She had seen a penis before, from a stableboy taking a pee against a wall. But what she had seen was some kind of rumpled, sluggish, short cucumber. It didn’t have the sheer size or the seemingly velvety texture of her husband’s, nor had it been standing up, like a solider at attention, like what she felt pressing against her thigh right now. 

“Take a deep breath”, Kylo instructed, and she obeyed. 

Her lungs filled with air and suddenly, he pressed his thing against her entrance. It was so much thicker than his finger! There was no way it could fit inside her! But he seemed to be determined to enter her. 

Rey’s lungs emptied. Her nails scratched her husband’s shirt. 

She opened her mouth in a silent scream of pain, trying to wriggle out of his grip, but he crushed her down with all of his weight, pinning her to the bed. He pushed harder, stronger than before. She felt something tear deep inside her, his body ripping into her.

Rey’s eyes filled with burning tears.

‘ _Do not cry’_ She repeat in her head. ‘ _Do not cry’_.

She screamed, but no sound escaped her throat.

He was thrusting into her, again and again, impaling her, wounding her flesh, and the feeling was excruciating. 

She fought him, but he dominated her. He was so much stronger! 

“Relax”, He said again. “The more you fight it, the more painful it will feel. Let go.” 

A sob escaped Rey’s mouth. She had promised not to whine, but this was so painful! He had thrusted himself so deep inside and her whole body was rejecting the intrusion.

He pulled out and she released a thankful breath, yet he pushed again with a strong thrust and she screamed in agony. She clenched her teeth and her eyes, now sobbing heavily. In and out, in and out; he was digging in her flesh, and it felt terrible. The delicate skin of where he was pummeling into her burned, the stretch almost unbearable; her whole body was objecting.

Kylo was heavy on her chest. He had stopped kissing her and tucked his head into her neck. He breathed heavily, holding her wrists to stop her from fighting, and pounded faster into her body. 

Sounds of approval arouse from the audience around the bed. 

Rey lost the notion of time. She had closed her eyes, bit her lips, and waited for her torment to come to an end. 

In and out, in and out. 

Rose had promised her she would enjoy it. She had lied. 

At last, Kylo changed his pace. He lifted himself above her on his arms, closed his eyes, and groaned loudly.

The sound struck her and she worried, was he in pain too?

“Are you okay?” she heard herself ask him. 

He thrusted into her again a few more times, and it was suddenly slick and wet between her thighs. She felt full of something warm and oily. What was that now? Was it normal? Did she do something wrong? She blushed.

Kylo pulled out at last and Rey sighed in relief. She turned over and away from him, silently crying, feeling the oily liquid drip out of her and onto her thighs.

Kylo tucked his now flaccid organ into his pants and rolled on his back. His hair was sticking to the sweat of his forehead. Rey could taste the salt from the tears on her cheeks. 

The curtain opened wide on the hideous shape of the archbishop. Blood had stained the sheets.

Rey cried in relief. She’d done well. She had done her duty. Some attendees clapped, made comments of the show, and the next minute, the room was empty. 

Kylo turned towards her.“Come here”, He said.

Rey shivered in fright. Was he going to thrust into her again? Yet she obeyed, afraid of the consequences if she didn’t. She came close and he held her tight. A gentle embrace, as he would soothe a child’s pain after a bumped head or a skinned knee. Relieved, yet sore, she let him do it.  

“Are you sleepy?” He asked.

She shaked her head. _Not really_.

She had a thousand unanswered questions, but she wasn’t sure she was allowed to ask them. 

“We will try again”, He said softly into her ear. “Alone, next time. We’ll take our time. It will feel better, you’ll see… And soon, you’ll become pregnant.”

She closed her eyes. Her privates were burning, a painful sensation due to the ordeal she went through. She needed fresh water, or milk, to apply and ease the pain. But she didn’t dare to ask. 

So she prayed for sleep to come quick and ease her out of her agony. 

They would do it again, and then she’d become pregnant. There was a connection no one explained her. 

She’d get used to intercourse, Rose said. 

But Rey wasn’t so sure. Her body had been brutalized, damaged, and she wasn’t sure she was willing to look at her husband the same way ever again, as he seemed to have enjoyed this maltreatment. 

It felt like freedom when sleep washed over her at last.

 

* * *

 

Kylopold Benedict Soloren, Lord of the First Order, was watching his bride sleeping.

How old was she? Less than twenty… her body was shapely but her skin was soft as a child’s.

Rivers of salt still stained her cheeks.

He felt sorry for it.

He wished they could have taken their time, that he could have made her want him, increased her desire, but this first night was ceremonial and he was bound to take her virginity, in front of witnesses, to seal their union. That was the law. How awful for a young lady to lose her virginity, painfully in front of an audience!

He had read surprise, and agony, in her eyes. He understood no one explained intercourse to her. She arrived as a lamb to a butcher, naive and fragile, without the vaguest idea of the act she was going to go through.

She’d felt tight, clenched, dry, and closed as if her body was trying to prevent his intrusion. He deeply wished she’d relax and get wet, but he couldn’t blame her. He could only imagine the horror she was experiencing.

The war between their kingdoms had lasted for ages and the wedding was agreed upon in order to build a conjoined army, to confront the new invaders. Soldiers of the First Order, craftsmen and ore of the Sands. 

Kylopold had always known, even as a young boy, that he wouldn’t get to pick his wife. He had imagined a thousand different stories : an old wrinkly empress who’d act as his mother; a hysterical, spoiled brat; a stupid teenage girl without wit or talent... 

Yet, when he’d received the portrait of Irene “Rey” of the Sands of Jakku, he was in awe. The artist must have exaggerated her beauty, to please his patron. Would she be mean, ugly, or infertile? He was ready to be deceived. 

And yet... 

He couldn’t take his eyes off her throughout the wedding ceremonies. 

Inside the cathedral, where the mass seemed to last for hours, she was wearing a red dress with strings of gold and a veil over her face. He could make out the shape of her nose and the hazel of her eyes under the delicate silk hiding her features. 

She stood straight, but she was tiny. He worried he might break her when he’d make love to her, so he’d have to be gentle. Her hips seemed narrow; could she bare children? It was a priority for her to become pregnant and bare an heir to their combined kingdoms in order to strengthen their union. 

They were officially wed in front of the Church and the People. After the vows, the blessings, the unctions, the prayers, the rituals, and a thousand other official rites, he’d lifted her veil at last. Her eyes were shining. She’d been crying. She was scared. What did she know about him? What impression had she been given about him? 

He wasn’t soft on the battlefield, yet again, that wasn’t was was required.

He was commanding with his people and servants, but that was his task as their king.

He was passionate with his lovers, maids at his service ‘for experience” and prostitutes here and there, but she could not possibly have heard of his behavior with them. 

And suddenly, as they left the cathedral, Irene had stepped on her dress and almost stumbled in front of the crowd. The bride falling to the ground in front of the Church and the peasants would have been a terrible omen, and he didn’t think twice before catching her arm and helping her find her balance. She had clenched her fingers on his glove and her eyes gleamed with something new. 

Gratitude? 

His heart pounded hard and he felt his cock harden in his pants. She was glowing. His Desert flower. 

He could never have dreamed of marrying such a woman. He was thankful, and amazed, to own her now. He was looking forward to making love to her, to taste he skin, the make her his own. 

But that, will come later. 

The first night would be the Claiming Ritual. Given the pressure of their parents and all the attending officials, it would be impossible (forbidden, even) to give her sexual pleasure. 

Until now, he had always considered it normal and not a big deal. The woman could certainly clench her teeth a few minutes. 

But as he looked at Irene, at her hazel eyes, the pearls of her teeth, the shiver of her lips… he was struck by the horror of his task. 

She deserved something else, she deserved better. She deserved to be loved and worshiped, to swoon in bliss and to fall asleep with a smile on her lips. 

Kylopold looked away when she walked into the room, dressed as a doll covered in a meringue of lace. He felt sorry for her and for what she was about to go through, and couldn’t look her in the eyes, or he wouldn’t be able to do his part. 

He’d have wanted her to be naked, to see her breasts and her thighs, but this ceremonial nightgown, ruffled like a christening dress, was all but sexy. He couldn’t see an inch of skin. 

Maybe that was on purpose. Just thinking about the slimy glare of Archbishop Snoke on his bride’s body make him sick. He saw the drop on saliva on the lips of the old priest as he was spreading Irene’s legs with his gold crozier to “testify her virginity”. He saw the priest lecherous tongue point out of his open mouth. 

It was too much and Kylo had put and end to it. He knew he’d be in trouble for that later, but it didn’t matter now. His wife’s honor was at stake. 

Never before had he considered the scale of the disaster: the ritual was sordid. Ha, how nobles and soldiers would laugh and brag about their performance on their wedding night, gloating about pounding their screaming wives’ cunts, looking fierce and proud.

They’d guffaw and pat each other on the back. 

He used to laugh with them. 

Yet tonight… tonight… 

She was shaking on the bed, breathless, fists clenched, legs opened, and he realized there would only be one first time. This first time would be a disaster for her, no matter how hard he tried to appease her. After that, she would be scared of him, and hate sex. This ritual was barbaric. 

He tried to reassure her. To apologize in advance. They’d have better nights, he promised. But he had to take her, here and now, and Lord, let her bleed! 

Not all maids bled, not even the virgins, and this silly superstition ruined the lives of numerous young ladies, locked into convents for the rest of their days. Let her bleed! He had only known her for a few hours and yet the idea of her being taken away from him caused him to tremble. 

He had tried to make her want him, and he was too happy she’d kiss him back. But to his disappointment, her body was dry, and clenched. She was under too much pressure to relax. He had to get her wet or she would scream in pain and would be traumatized for the months, maybe even years to come. He did his best, in spite of the many layers of fabric between them and the dozens of staring eyes… Saliva, fingers, to ease a little -not enough- what would come next. 

It hadn’t been enough, but he couldn’t postpone anymore. People were talking behind the curtains, commenting on his ability. He had to prove that he had the situation under his control… as well as his wife. 

He was aware that he was too big for this first experience. He had found it difficult to thrust one finger into her; how would he manage his whole hard cock? She was tight and in panic, but he forced his way into her, thrusting against her hymen, devastated to read despair in her eyes as he claimed her maidenhead. 

And yet he desired her, with all his heart, since he laid eyes on her in the Cathedral. His cock was painfully hard. It was a relief to fuck her at last. 

As Irene’s body eventually surrendered, he held back a blissful groan. She was incredibly tight around his shaft, the feeling was divine. Narrow, burning hot, soft, he thrust into her and resisted the urge to increase the pace. 

He saw tears roll down her cheeks and his heart broke. 

As Kylopold was blessing the Lord to have given him this woman’s body to possess every night until death do they part, Irene was obviously cursing the same Lord for the nights of torment to come. 

She fought under his body, trying to get him off with her knees and her pelvis, and he held her wrists to pin her down, letting his natural weight keep her still. She released a long breath, and screamed silently as he moved back and forth inside her. 

He held her still and increased his pace, thrusting deeper as she adapted to his size, and as he pounded her, he heard the approving comments of the audience, behind the curtains. 

At least, his task was fulfilled. 

He could feel his pleasure build, his balls growing tense, heat rising in his cock, back and forth with each thrust. He tucked his face into Rey’s neck, his amazing wife. She smelled divine and her skin was soft.

He’d contemplate her body tomorrow, for their second night. Tonight, it was time to end this. 

His orgasm was close and he lifted himself on his arms to come into her, deep inside, in powerful spurts that made him groan loudly. 

A strange look came over her face and... was she worried about him? How adorable. Yes he was alright, if she only knew… He stayed inside her a few moments, then pulled out and tucked his softening cock into his pants.

A dribble of white cum was dripping out of his wife. 

Kylopold scowled was he noticed the Archbishop Snoke’s depraved glare. The despicable old man probably ruined his cassock.

Irene of the Sands of Jakku had bled. He had taken her virginity, filled her with his seed, and she’d bled. Everything had gone as planned. 

When the room emptied at last, he pulled her into his arms. She was shaking with fright and pain. He tried to appease her, muttering soft words and kisses into her ear. 

The heart of Kylopold Benedict Soloren of the First order was beating hard. An unknown feeling was burning his chest: he was in love.

 

And the next nights would be all theirs.

 


	2. The Second Night

 

“Where is her Ladyship?” Lord Soloren asked  the maids shaking the linens in his bedroom.

 

They stopped their movement and politely bowed.

 

“In the courtyard, My Lord,” Rose answered as she kept her eyes on the floor. “With the Swords Master.”

 

“With the…?”

 

Kylopold failed to finish his sentence, twisted on his heel and hurtled down the steep spiral staircase leading to the courtyard.

 

He stopped as he reached the ground, mesmerized.

 

Irene - Rey - was wearing man’s clothes: pants and a linen shirt. A long scarf was knot around her body, perhaps to prevent the fabric from getting in the way as she proudly wielded a heavy two-handed sword. Velvet ribbons held her hair into three buns.

The swords Master, an old bearded man - Kylopold’s own uncle - was giving a sword wielding demonstration. And as unexpected as it seems, Rey was winning.

 

Kylopold’s mouth dropped open.

 

This was against every First Order tradition, yet Rey was a princess from the Sands territories… and she obviously had been trained to fight. Thinking about it, a life in the Sands was not for the faint of heart and few thrived there. The barons simple did not have the manpower when under attack. Women learned to fight as the men and seemed as valuable as any male soldier to them.

 

Rey was fighting fiercely, breathless, her cheeks burning. Sweat pearls shined on her forehead.

 

Kylo felt his cock twitch with want. How long could she hold against a soldier such as himself? How strong were her arms? Was his uncle, the Sword Master, withholding his strikes?

 

He walked into the courtyard, untying the short cape covering his right shoulder and letting it fall on the pavement. As he approached the old man, he waved his hand and the Sword master handed him the weapon.

 

As she saw her husband, Rey respectfully stepped back and leaned into a small bow.

 

“Straighten up, My Lady,” the young Lord instructed. “And show me your talents with a sword.”

 

“My Lord, I’m afraid to…”

 

Kylo came closer.“Afraid to what?” A smirk curled on his lips. “Damaging your pretty hands?”

Rey lifted her head, facing him with fierce eyes. “Afraid to harm you, My Lord.”

 

He burst out laughing, blasted by her boldness. “Harm me?! I can handle the delicate touch of your needle, believe me.”

 

“I don’t doubt that. But what about your pride? Your servants could scoff at their Lord being defeated by his spouse.”

 

She was mocking him. The fragile and frightened princess of the previous night, prisoner of protocol, had given way to an ardent and insolent Amazon. He felt himself grow hard. He was looking forward to dominating her… in private as in public.

 

“We shall see.” He said, raising his weapon.

 

Around them, servants, stableboys, maids and farmers, workers and craftsmen of all kinds held their breath. Dozens of eyes were staring at their new monarch, about to fence against his new wife, dressed as a man. It was a rather unusual sight.

 

Rey attacked, surprising Kylo with her swiftness and speed. He countered the strike, twirling his blade with one smooth twist of the wrist. But she immediately struck again and their blades clattered. Rey was as quick and energetic as Kylo was strong and accurate. He moved in technical, rigorous motions, while Rey was quite the opposite and seemed to fight on pure instinct.

 

Their fight looked like a dance.

 

She dodged his attack and their swords locked. Rey clenched her teeth as she resisted the terrible strength of Kylo’s pressure on her arms.

 

“Not bad for a desert flower,” he said. “You could become a true warrior if you let me teach you.”

 

“I… already…am... a true warrior,” Rey puffed behind her clenched teeth, barely withstanding their power struggle.

 

He smiled, and giving into the momentum, crushed his mouth on his wife’s, above their trembling swords. She tasted of salt and he felt his cock swelled. He desired her.

Did she desire him? She wasn’t kissing him back.

 

Suddenly she moved away, dropped her weapon, and Kylo, taken by surprise, lost his balance. He fell forward as Rey twisted out of his reach and, throwing her leg into his knee, kicked him down.

 

He hit the pavement, dazed by the violence of her stroke. Rey seized the weapon he just dropped; towering over him, she pressed the sharp edge between Kylo’s shoulder blades.

He winced, but didn’t make a move. His eyebrow was bleeding and a thin red stream dripped down his right eye and cheek.

 

“Tell me, Oh mighty warrior,” Rey hissed, “Do you need me to give _you_ lessons?”

 

“You will pay for this,” Kylo spat, fending off Rey’s sword to stand up.

 

Rey watched him, picked up her weapon, and deeply bowed. The warriors princess was gone and the humble wife had returned.

 

If he hadn’t felt utterly humiliated, Kylo would have been struck by the sudden change of attitude: the shy and frightened girl in his bedroom became wild and deadly on the battlefield.

 

But he had other worries at the moment. He clenched his fist on the hilt of his sword. “To your room. Now!” He commanded. “And change your clothes, this attire is… unacceptable.”

 

He turned around and strode inside. The crowd in the courtyard heard him yell at his servants, demanding water and clothes to tend to his wound.

 

* * *

 

Rey was sitting on her bench, her untied hair flowing down her shoulders and only wearing the soft white shift she wore under her heavy gowns, when her husband made a dramatic entrance into her room, slamming the doors so forcefully their frames shook.

 

Rose- focused on cleaning her Ladyship’s face with a soft sponge- startled so violently, she dropped the water bucket on the floor, soaking the carpet.

 

Rey stood up, raising her chin with pride.

 

“Get out!” Kylo yelled at the maid, who mumbled an apology, managed a quick bow, and quickly ran out of the room.

 

Kylo stopped in front of his spouse, and gave her a long glare from head to toe. She looked fragile and delicate in her see-through dress.

 

Then without warning, he raised his hand and slapped her across the face, so brutally she almost lost her balance. Rey opened her mouth in surprise and then reared back, slapping him back with all the strength she could muster.

 

Kylo clutched his cheek in disbelief.

 

“You… you hit me!” He stuttered, feeling his flesh burning under his fingers.

 

“Raise your hand to me ever again and you will regret it,” Rey answered, with trembling lips.

 

“I am your husband! Your Lord and master! You owe me respect, and obedience!”

 

“And I am Princess Irene of the Sand’s Federation, and you shall lower your gaze when you address to me, Benedict Soloren!“

 

Her hazel eyes were shining with anger. Kylo sensed her body coming alive with her passion: her cheeks flushed with pain and anger; her small nippled breasts heaving up and down as she breathed; her fists, clenched with knuckles white from rage ; the shadow of her pubic hair, he could glimpse at through the fabric.

 

All blood flow went to his groin as a powerful sensation knotted in his core. He had married a _goddess_. And he had two options. Either he killed her or he possessed her, here and now.

 

Rey gasped as he closed the space between them, grabbed her face with both hands and crushed his mouth to hers.

 

She froze, unsure of the appropriate reaction. Her body was still shaking with fright and rage. He had slapped her because she humiliated him in a sword duel in front for their servants. That she knew. What did this kiss mean? Was the quarrel over?

 

Kylo’s tongue was pushing against her lips. He was breathless and something hard rubbed against Rey’s navel.

 

She opened her lips and welcomed him inside, unsure of how to return the kiss. She mimicked the movements of his tongue with her and it unlocked something new inside her.

 

A burning river flowed down her veins into her belly, twisted under her navel, woke up her core and suddenly, she felt an unfamiliar tension in her groin.

 

It felt almost uncomfortable. She rubbed her thighs together.

 

Bashfully, she raised her hands to lay them on her husband’s chest with the tip of her fingers, not daring to touch him more than that.

 

Locking his eyes with hers, he removed his hands from her face and slipped one hand behind her back, the other under her knees, and lifted her into his arms as easily as if she’d been a doll. Rey held on to his neck and only let go as he gently laid her down on the bed.

 

Kylo’s gaze was burning. Rey’s was frightened. She was vulnerable again.

She looked away as he was peeling off his doublet and shirt, displaying his shoulders and the muscular lines of his belly. A trail of dark hair started under his navel and enlarged as it disappeared into his pants.

 

“Are you going to rape me?” Rey muttered, feeling sobs building in her throat.

 

Kylo froze, suddenly serious. “I will never take you against your will. Never, do you hear me? Instead, I want you to beg me to make love to you. Today, and always.”

He was trying to reassure her, yet she kept wringing her hands. “Is it going to hurt again?”

 

Kylo came closer, and she startled as he raised his hand, as if she feared to be slapped again. But he gently touched her face. Very slowly, he laid a kiss on her lips.

 

“I am sorry for last night. I didn’t have a choice. I had dreamed of something different for our wedding night… but we have plenty of time now. It won’t hurt, ever, again.”

 

Rey relaxed slightly, yet she didn’t totally believe him. The previous night had been excruciating. She couldn’t imagine intercourse not being painful, not to mention _begging_ him to do _that_ to her.

 

“Take your clothes off,” He said with a low voice, and she raised her frightened eyes.

 

“I’m not going to hurt you”, he added. “If you need me to stop, just say so. I promise to respect your decision.”

 

She nodded. Her lips closed into a thin line, and started to untie the neckline of her dress. Kylo picked up the hem and lifted it above her head.

 

And then she was naked for the first time in front of a man and bashfully covered her breasts with her arms.

 

Gently, Kylo took her wrists and opened her arms to him, to admire her. Golden freckles covered her shoulders and her collarbone. The small pink pearls of her nipples were peaking towards him. He felt eager to suck them, but it was too soon for that. It was urgent to take this slow.

 

“My Lady,” he said, “Aphrodite herself is not as beautiful as you.”

 

Then he moved to sit on the bed, his back against the wall, bare chested but still wearing his puffy short pants, knotted under his knees. He waved his hand to invite her to join him: “Come closer. I promise not to harm you.”

Naked and frightened, Rey obeyed. She kneeled next to him.

 

Extending his hand, he gently pulled her into his arms, and she sat between his thighs, back pressed against his torso. In this position, her neck, chest, belly and mound were exposed.

 

 

Kylo softly laid his hand on her hip and she quivered.

 

He whispered in her ear, “Close your eyes. Breathe deeply, and describe what you feel.”

 

She closed her eyes. He was kissing her hair, her ear, her neck. His wet and warm lips brushed against her skin and she shivered. Her husband’s hands, feeling huge on her, tenderly touched the curve of her hips, the dip of her belly button, raising to her ribs. She stuttered as he touched her breasts and she opened her eyes in surprise.

 

“Hush,” he breathed. “Relax. What do you feel? Tell me.”

 

Rey wavered. How could she put words to this? What did he want to know?

 

“Your mouth on my neck is… it makes me shiver,” she started, feeling embarrassed to talk about such things. “Your hands are warm… they burn my skin, and they - oh!”

 

He had just closed his fingers on her nipples, without pinching nor brutality, yet she startled.

 

“Go on.” he said against her ear.

 

“I don’t know…” Rey answered. “I… I don’t have words for this. You are touching me up here and it feels warm… down below.”

 

“Down below? In your sex? ”

 

“Y...Yes…” Rey muttered. “I… I think a may have peed a little...”

 

He smiled against her hair. “Don’t worry. You felt something dripping? When I did this?” Matching words with action, he rolled her nipples between his fingers, and Rey arched her back against him.

 

“Yes!”

 

“Good girl,” Kylo said. “Now don’t be scared. I’m going to place my hand down there. I won’t hurt you.”

 

Leaving the nipple he had taken so good care of, he brushed his hand down her ribs, her navel, tangled his fingers into her delicate curly pubic hair and finally, her soft folds. She was warm and wet, totally different from the previous night. He felt her chest move up and down as she breathed heavily.

 

Kylo was holding Rey into his hands as a musician would hold a cello. Her sighs were music to his ears.

 

She cried out and wriggled to get rid of his grip as it touched the sensitive skin covering her clitoris. Kylo removed his hand and placed it on her abdomen, close but not touching her, until he felt her relax, then licked his middle finger, and placed it back between her thighs.

 

“Please let me.” He said. “I will stop if it hurts.”

 

Rey’s head fell back, as she closed her knees. This was edging too close to the violation of the previous night.

 

But Kylo gently pushed her thighs with his hand, encouraging her to open them. He was kissing the delicate skin of her neck, nipping on her earlobe. She shivered with delight, relaxing the pressure that held her knees together.

Her husband found her slit and slowly opened it. Rey’s breath increased as she resisted the need to close her legs and push him away. He was touching her slowly, stroking the nub hidden under her folds. She lost her breath and sat up, overwhelmed by this new sensation.

 

“Oh Kylo!” she burst out,

 

“would you like me to stop?”

 

“No! No, continue!”

 

She didn’t see him smile. Her eyes were shut and her mouth open, as she focused on this part of her body he was helping her discover for the first time. He kept moving his finger, slowly and smoothly, touching her nipple with his left hand. She was arched against him and he could smell her, practically taste her arousal. Rey was relaxed at last, her legs spread, opening under his hand’s ministrations. Kylo’s middle finger rubbed just under her clitoris and Rey _moaned_.

 

Then he moved his hand down. She was damp under his touch and he laid his finger on her entrance without trying to push inside, to get her used to the feeling. This caused her to quiver and he felt her walls clench. She was receptive-no longer shying away, so he resumed his caress, drawing small circles at her entrance, though still not slipping inside her. Against his palm, Rey’s hips bashfully started to roll. It was a rather spontaneous wave, changing the pressure and contact of her core against his finger, which only to make her moan more.

 

Kylo felt a maddening urge, a furious need to fuck her, to thrust into her. She was calm and so very wet. He would glide inside her perfectly. It would be a very different experience from the previous night and there was no doubt they’d both enjoy it. But he didn’t want to scare her away… going too fast could shatter the trust he was just starting to gain.

 

His cock was painfully hard inside his pants as he thought about delving inside her. He desperately needed relief as each roll of Rey’s hips rubbed against his shaft and made him want her more.

 

He felt ridiculous: was he some kind of shy virgin, ready to come in his pants at the sheer sight of this woman swooning in his arms?

 

He let go of her breast, which he had been lovingly rubbing since she sat between his arms, and tilted his hips to grab his cock through his clothes.

 

He switched hands. The left hand laid against Rey’s wet, burning core as the right hand slid inside his pants in order to slowly touch himself.

 

Rey felt his change of rhythm and bent to the side to see what he was doing. Her cheeks turned bright red when she saw the shape of his length bulging under the fabric.

 

This too, was new to her. She tilted her head, asking for a kiss, seeking Kylo’s lips. She tasted his mouth, savoring the touch of their tongues, of this hand on her most secret place, and- feeling suddenly bold- she laid her hand on top of Kylo’s, moving up and down under his clothes.

 

A groan escaped Kylo’s lips. Rey’s hand on his own, helping touching himself, was the most erotic thing she’d done so far in their bedroom. Slowly, to give her time to change her mind, he picked up Rey’s hand, slid it beneath his pants and laid it on his throbbing cock, encouraging her to touch him.

 

Rey lowered her gaze to look at what she was holding So this was what stabbed her last night. She marveled at the size of it: it was big as her sword’s hilt. No wonder it had been so painful! But looking at it again, no longer terrified but was warm and safe in her husband’s arms, she found it neither ugly nor scary. It had a funny mushroom shape, smooth and soft, with a drop of liquid near the tip’s opening. Kylo helped her close her hand on him and guided her, sliding up and down. Rey felt her body react; her core clenched. Her movement on Kylo’s cock was echoing his own movement at her entrance.

 

Kylo’s carefully turned her around in his arms, so she was facing him. She was holding his cock with her both hands now, exploring the details and texture, as he kissed her full-heartedly and resumed his tender rubbing between her thighs. He was so tempted to thrust his finger deep inside her, but was afraid to harm her.

 

“My Lady,” He said. “Will you allow me to lick you?”

 

Rey laughed, thinking her was making a joke. “Do what?”

 

“I want to kiss you here.”

“You can’t be serious!” Rey cried out. “You’re not speaking of putting your mouth… there?!”

 

“I will stop the minute you tell me to” Kylo answered, helping her lay down on her back and gliding his lips on the soft skin of her neck.

 

Rey gasped as he closed his mouth on her breast, grazing his teeth on her nipple. Kylo froze, waiting for her signal to continue.

 

“Oh!” she sighed. “More!”

 

He resumed. He kissed, sucked and carefully licked her breasts, feeling her cunt react against his hand. She was close to climax, and she didn’t even know it.

 

So he moved down, and pushed her thighs open to fit his head in between. Her curly hair was wet with arousal. Opening his mouth, he glided an eager tongue through her slit, all the way from the bottom to the top.

 

“Oh my God!” Rey burst out, sitting up, closing her thighs on Kylo’s face.

 

He pushed her open again and buried his face into her scent, delightfully licking her folds. Rey was biting her fist, trying not to scream. Kylo’s tongue played with her entrance, taking its time against the tight, sensitive ring, still tensed from the previous night’s trauma. He wanted to tame her, get her used to him. Rey had fallen back on the bed and rolled her hips against his mouth, breathing heavily. Her fingers clutched on the sheets, knuckles turning white. Kylo knew she was close. He could sense her walls clenching, her juices flooding in his mouth, her folds turning red and her clit swelling, peaking towards him. He’d have sold his soul to the Devil to thrust his cock deep inside her until he painted her insides white with his spend, but he restrained himself. There would be many other nights to fuck her. Right now, it was not about him.

 

“Kylo, Kylo, stop! It’s too much! Too much!” Rey cried out, and he lifted his face, wet with her arousal.

 

“What’s too much?”

 

“The feeling… this.” And she writhed beneath him.  “It’s growing, I don’t think I can take it. It’s… consuming me.”

 

“It’s not going to hurt, Sweetheart.” He soothed, kissing the inside of her thighs. “But if you must scream, don’t hold back.”

 

“It’s too strong. If it grows more, I feel my body will break...” Rey whispered, unsure of the right words to describe her concern. 

 

“Let me carry on. Please. Trust me. Let’s see what happens if we let it grow higher.”

 

He knew he could have tried to explain what was happening to her, but he so desperately wanted to _show_ her and watch her unravel for the first time.

 

She spread her legs more, lifting her knees, and Kylo held her ass in his hands. Using this new angle, he sucked hard on her clit.

 

A deep groan escaped Rey’s throat, and she looked like she was going to faint as her head fell backwards. Her body convulsed. Kylo kept his pace, sucking fast and hard with the tip of his tongue on her nub.

 

“Oh dear God, I… My God I’m… I’m…! Kylo, oh God Kylo—“

 

She was failing to form a coherent sentence. Her body violently arched and she released a long, high pitched scream, her neck exposed and her eyes shut, as her very first orgasm shook her whole. It was orange. A light flashed behind her eyelids, the room turned white and for a moment she was scared she’d pass out.

 

She had no idea what had just happened to her. The sensation was unknown, and unusually intense. She started to shake and curled up, shivering, in total bewilderment.

 

Kylo moved to lay down beside her and held her tightly. He kissed her hair and soothed her. “I am here. It’s okay. Everything is okay. You did wonderfully, Rey. You were perfect.”

 

“What… what did you do to me?” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

 

“Did you like it?”

 

“I… yes I think so. But I feel swollen and… I’m not sure, I feel tense inside.”

 

 _« You want my cock_  », Kylo thought, smiling, but he kept that thought to himself for tonight.

 

He pulled the sheet over his wife. Her breath was slowing as she was falling into slumber.

 

When she finally fell into a deep sleep, he freed his aching cock from his pants and started to violently stroke his member. He needed to come, to relieve himself. The taste of her climax on his tongue was driving him insane. Laying on his back, he vigorously pleasured himself, dreaming of what it would feel like to fuck her as she deserved. When she’d beg him to. He would fuck her and worship her and it would be glorious. She would scream in delight, dig her fingers into his sides, roll her hips along his own and would beg him to go deeper, stronger. He’d apply his thumb on her clit and make her come on his cock, before he came too…

He groaned, pumping into his fist as the idea of Rey coming on his shaft led him to climax. Warm cum spurted on his hand and belly.

 

He cleaned himself with the sponge the princess was earlier using on her face. Relieved at last, he snuggled against her and kissed her neck.

 

“I love you, Lady Rey Soloren of the First Order.” he whispered. “And I will win your love, no matter the costs: my life, my wealth and my honor.”

 

Inside his arms and deep in slumber, Irene sighed with delight.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta reader AuroraNoirInStardust for her help in making this intelligible English.  
> If you like this story, please leave kudos and comments!  
> Also you can say hi on twitter or tumblr, look for @elopez7228  
> Cheers


	3. The third night

The assembly went suddenly quiet as Lady Soloren entered the board room. 

The archbishop Snoke was presiding, sitting at the end of the table. On his right was Lord Kylopold Soloren and on his left, Huxley, minister of Armies. At the other end of the table, far from the core of the debates, sat the queen-mother Organa, former Regent. Her son’s ascension to power had reduced her to the lowest rank in the hierarchy. 

Nobody moved. All the ministers held their breaths. 

Yet the Lord, wearing black brocade as he always did, stood up. With reluctance, they all followed his lead. The only one to remain seated on his throne-like massive chair, was the Archbishop under his gold mitre.

“To what do we owe this interruption, my Lady,” said the Archbishop. “Are you out of embroidery thread?” 

“My Lords… Madam,” the young Lady answered, “The task of this assembly today is to organize the holding of the ore mines in the Sand territories of Niima, Mos Eisley and Mos Espa. Yet I only see First Order ministers around this table. Could the Federation ambassadors have been delayed?” 

The Archbishop winced, and waved to his ministers to sit back down. They all did. “The Federation’s Officials have been informed of today’s agenda and did not care to take part of the discussion. They trust the new administrators of the Sand territories to make the best of their resources.”

”I am the only ambassador of the Federation in this palace,” Lady Rey insisted “Yet I never received the agenda. Did the courier get lost in the corridors to my apartments?” 

Huxley, a courtier with red hair and a permanently dismissive wince, muttered something that made his peers laugh. 

Rey lifted her chin. ”Do share, Sir, so we can all laugh along.”

“If you insist” said the minister of armies as he stood back up. “I was saying that the courier probably turned back when he heard the moans and lustful screams through your door, my Lady. He must have thought it was inhabited by a low cost whore rather than a noble Princess!” 

Kylopold’s reaction was so swift, Huxley never saw the strike coming. He hadn’t even closed his mouth when the young Lord extended his arm across the table and caught his lace collar, ripping its seams. 

“I will stab you in the throat if you ever insult my wife - your queen- again, Huxley! I also have the authority to kick you back into the stables you crawled out of in the first place.” 

Huxley didn’t try to fight back. He smirked,  “We all admired her tight little cunt, my Lord. No one can blame you for trying to fuck it all day long. But be careful that your weakness for her doesn’t distract you from your task.” 

Kylopold drew his sword, but the Archbishop’s crozier tapped on his hand, as a teacher would have done to a insolent student. 

“Come on, Gentlemen, ” he drawled. “Keep your passions and anger for the battlefield. The Nar Shaada armies threaten the bordures of the Federation… our territory now. You will have other occasions to discuss the lady’s...” And the Bishop brought his gaze to Rey, his eyes wandering a little too far South. “...honor.” 

Rey, chin up, was burning with anger. She realized the Claiming Ritual wasn’t just about sealing their union, unlike she genuinely thought until this very minute. It was rather a public humiliation to cut short on her ambitions and her dignity; to lock wives in a submissive function, as they would then always be on the edge of dishonor. She felt her eyelids burn and fought back her tears. She would not cry in front of this assembly! It would ruin her political agenda. 

“Then it’s agreed,” she said before the Archbishop started to talk again. “Someone bring me a chair.” 

Kylopold stood up, and shook the back of the minister’s seat next to him: 

“You heard your Queen. Find yourself another seat.” 

The outraged minister stood up with dignity and waved to a servant for another chair. People squeezed, elbowed, chairs moved, but the Minister managed to seat, the cheeks red and the teeth clenched. Kylopold pulled the empty chair and waved to his wife to join him. Lady Rey crossed the room and sat at his right. It was an achievement: the First Order would not take the Federation apart without having to go through her, their ambassador, “a desert flower”,  first. 

Under the table, she felt her husband’s hand, soft and warm, touching her thigh. She extended her own hand and their fingers tangled, in a secret dance under the table. This caress, as chaste and innocent as it was, awoke something inside her belly and she clenched her thighs. Her husband was starting to have such an affect on her. It was new, puzzling, but not unpleasant… and it actually made her look forward to their third night together as husband and wife.

* * *

 

Rey laid down in her bed, freshly bathed and groomed, eager for her husband to join her. He was attending numerous meetings, councils, and audiences, and she had not idea when he’d come to her. 

She blushed and felt her breath quicken at the memory of his hand holding hers under the table.

He had done much more _significant_ things to her, he’d thrust his manhood inside her. He’d made her scream with his mouth. But his hand... 

It was large, warm and soft, and his fingers kept caressing her during the strategy meeting. His thumb followed the curve of her fingers, the lines in her palm. His delicate touch reminded her of others… on her hips, on her breasts… secret, unprecedented touches, that lit a fire in her core. His thumb on her nipples, making her moan. She had no idea, before he did, that her skin was so sensitive. 

And his thumb on the bud of her private parts- that anatomic specificity she didn’t even know how to name- creating a new sensation that made her dizzy, that made her think she’d faint. It had been a powerful, unexpected shock that left her puzzled and breathless. She didn’t feel anything like it on their first night, yet Kylo had touched the same parts of her body… only he had thrusted his cock into her … a painful and humiliating experience. He said he’d wait for her to beg to do it again… that seemed unlikely to happen. She _could_ imagine begging him to touch her again with his tongue though, as he did the previous night. She was wondering if the striking sensation was usual, if he’d be able to do it again. 

But thrust into her? She sincerely hoped he didn’t care much about it because she’d gladly avoid it. 

Remembering her husband’s mouth on her, deep inside her curly hair, passionately licking her folds - something she never imagined people did - she felt her body react. 

Her vagina felt tense, then clenched. Something was dripping and she suddenly felt hot and very conscious of the sensitive bud at the upper part of her folds. She hadn’t known such a thing existed for seventeen years and suddenly, it obsessed her. It seemed impossible to ignore, and squeezing her thighs together wasn’t helping. It only increased the need she was feeling. When she couldn’t resist anymore, she dared to apply her hand on her wet center and moaned with relief. _This_ was what her body was craving: to be touched. Yet wasn’t it forbidden, by the Church or the State, for any else than her husband, herself included, to touch her? 

She crumpled on the bed, knees closed, hands locked between her thighs. Desire was burning her skin. May Kylopold join her soon! 

In this position, fighting against her own urges, Rey fell asleep. 

Late in the night, she felt the mattress dip and a warm shape snuggle against her. Kylopold made no attempt to touch her, or to wake her up. Respecting her sleep, he laid down against her back and kissed her shoulder. She felt his arm, heavy and warm, pull her against him. She smiled. 

“Good evening, my Lord,” she said in her sleepy voice. “Got rid of your Ministers at last?” 

“Hush, sleep, my Lady. I didn’t want to wake you up.” 

“I was waiting for you. What took you so long?” 

He kissed her hair, and moved his hand to cup her breast over the light fabric of her dress. She shivered. 

“I was dreaming of you...” Rey whispered. “Touch me, please, It’s still warm.” 

For a moment, Kylo wondered if he heard her right. He opened his mouth to answer, but Rey grabbed his hand and pulled it to her, placing it between her thighs. He felt her soft hair under the cotton veil, but the fabric prevented him from exploring deeper. In his arms, Rey shifted to face him, and brushed his lips with hers. 

It was quite a surprise to him. He didn’t expect her to make the first move, but he was quite happy she did! She held his hand, opened her legs and guided him closer to where she wanted him to touch her. He followed her lead, softly, and slipped the tip of his tongue between his wife’s lips. She opened hers, in a sensual way. He lifted the hem of her dress, slid his hand underneath her skirts, and moved it higher on her thigh. Rey’s breath was growing ragged. She felt her core pulse. She wanted him to touch her, to apply his mouth down again. And she wanted to do the same to him. 

Obeying her instinct she lifted her dress over her head, and snuggled naked against him. He was bare chested and she rubbed the sensitive bud of her nipples against his skin, as her legs opened to his hand on her center. 

Suddenly his hand was all over her, and a finger found the slit between her folds. It was wet and slick. Kylo moved his finger up and down, still not daring to enter her.  Rey felt it again, the wave of sensations that made her scream the previous night. She started rolling her hips against his hand, wanting to actively be a part of what he was doing to her. She held on to his shoulders and deepened their kiss, tasting his mouth. His breath smelled like alcohol and marzipan. 

Next thing she knew, he was breaking their kiss and trailing his mouth on her neck, on her collarbone, on her breasts. He sucked her nipple between his lips and rolled it under his tongue, delighting in her moans. She was damp and hot and open against his hand. 

Then Rey extended her small hand inside his pants and closed it around his cock. She started to slowly stroke him, as he had taught her the previous night. 

“Oh Rey…” He muttered, not sure he’d last long if she continued to touched him in such way. 

“Take off your clothes.” Rey instructed. “I want to see you.” 

He obliged, and Rey sat up in her elbows to look at him. He was wearing his usual black brocade puffy pants, knitted under his knees by a cord and closed at the waist with silver buttons. He pushed the pants down to his ankles, then to the floor and was at last completely naked, for the first time, in front of his wife. Rey’s eyes opened wide as she fought against the blush on her cheeks. 

She had never seen a naked man before. He was… beautiful. She didn’t like his face so much when she first saw him; his ears, nose, moles… But she liked his gaze. She liked the way he moved. And for the last two days she had been observing him, and she discovered she was fond of the music of his deep voice, the width of his shoulders, and the unusual way to he walked as if his own body was too big for himself. 

She extended her fingers, bashfully at first, to touch his chest and his stomach. She could feel his muscles tense and his heart thunder under his skin. Down below, there was a curly batch of hair, just like hers but darker. And, in the middle of it, his hard penis was standing straight, thick and pink, with a bulging tip that was leaking a little. Rey placed her hands around it and she started to caress it up and down slowly, willing herself to get familiar, torn between the memory of the pain this caused her and a peculiar attraction she was finding to it now. 

Beneath the length, hung heavy skin sacks, and she touched them with the tip of her fingers. She enjoyed looking at Kylo’s reactions to her touch. 

Following her instinct, she slick her hand on the liquid leaking from the tip of the cock and moved it more, trying different speeds, different pressures. Kylo smiled and held her hand, guiding her and Rey let him lead her movement. He laid down on the bed and she sat near him, contemplating his bliss. He closed his eyes, lips open, and she felt his cock harden even more between her hand, twitching, and his own hand began to lose its pace. 

An intuition made her lean forward and lick him. Kylo’s eyes opened wide, and he mumbled something inaudible, quivering, as Rey closed her mouth on the tip of his cock and applied her tongue. 

She froze, unsure of what to do next. How did he manage to make her feel so good last night with his mouth? Did he feel the same as she had right now? She took him deeper then back, to mimic the movement of her hands just before. She saw his fists clench on the sheets, knuckles turning white. He was obviously fighting against his own body; his hips trembled. 

Then all of a sudden she saw his will give out and he thrust his hips up into her mouth, his cock driving deep into her throat. She gagged and spit him out. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he mumbled, his breath short and cheeks red. “I… I don’t think I can let you keep doing this…” 

“Why not?” she asked, kissing his tip again. 

“I can’t… I won’t be able to hold back and I don’t want to hurt you.” He said. 

But Rey pushed his stomach with her hand to make him lie down again. So he did like it. Well then, she was going to do it more! 

She closed her fist on the base of his shaft and took the tip in her mouth, exploring his anatomy. She sucked, licked, kept an eye on her husband’s reaction, who was totally submissive to her now. She felt his hips increase their thrusts as he started to move against her, slowly and shallowly, and Rey didn’t back up this time. She adapted her own movement to follow him. He was moaning and she felt her own flesh burn with want. Her sex was dripping wet and that little bud swollen. As she pressed her middle finger on it, she startled and almost bit his cock between her lips. Yet she found the right rhythm, mimicking the movement of Kylo’s hips with her mouth, and the movement of her mouth with her finger. Soon the room was filled with the sound of sighs, sucking and skin to skin. 

Kylo suddenly sat up, his eyes open, and cupping Rey’s face with his hand, made her let go off him and look at him. “My Lady, I… please let me take you.” 

Rey winced. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go that far. 

“Please let me try,” Kylo begged, stroking his twitching cock with his hand as he spoke. “I won’t hurt you and I won’t force you. Tell me, what do you feel?” 

She shook her head, not understanding the question. So he laid his hand on her groin and asked again in that deep baritone of his: “What do you feel, _there_?” 

Rey blushed and avoided his gaze. She whispered, “It’s warm, it’s clenching…and I want you to touch me.” 

“I can help you,” Kylo reassured. “Let me help you.” 

Rey nodded and kissed him again. She trusted him. She trusted he wouldn’t hurt her. 

Lust bloomed in his eyes. Kylo grabbed her waist, pushed her on the bad, on her back, and lifted her knees as he dove his face between her thighs. 

Rey cried out as he licked her with passion, almost with brutality, yet it didn’t hurt. Her clit pulsed under his tongue and she closed her fists in his hair to guide him closer. She couldn’t admit it but had been waiting for this all day. He held her ass with both hands and sucked her hard, greedily, with quick strikes of his tongue, and Rey arched her back as she felt her body convulse.

Dear God, this was so intense, so divine… it was certainly forbidden by the Church. She could have cried tears of delight. 

She felt him move and before she knew it, he started to insert a thick digit inside her. Down below, in that burning hot entrance she failed to understand. Pain, pleasure? It had been so painful the other night…why did it _need_ to be touched now? She groaned loudly as Kylo prepared her entrance with the tip of his finger. She felt herself drip over him, and a burning flow arose in her core, inside, screaming for him to fill her. Kylo felt it and he thrust his finger into her hot cunt, as he sucked harder on her clit. 

Rey hissed, almost like a cat, and spread her knees, fists clenched into her lover’s hair, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation. She wanted more, and started rolling her hips against his hand, experimenting with touch, with the feeling inside. She lost all control and suddenly she begged, “More! My God, Kylo! I’m going to—” 

She never finished her sentence. He slid a second finger inside and she stiffened against him, rubbing her clit on his mouth, bucking her folds against his hand, savoring the feeling of him inside her body, and the orgasm that shook her from bottom to top. Her body stretched, her nails clawed on the sheets, and her mouth opened in a long, silent scream as her belly convulsed. 

Kylo moved above her, locking her legs open with his own knees, and as he crushed his mouth on her, he pushed the tip of his cock against her entrance. Rey’s eyes opened wide and she clung on to his shoulders, in an expression of terror. “Breathe deeply, my Lady,” He said. “Just breathe and trust me. See how good I make you feel?” 

He was right. He did make her feel good. He gave her orgasms, this new sensation she knew she couldn’t get enough of. He would not hurt her. So she nodded and bit her lip. “Make me scream with bliss, then, my Lord. I want Huxley to hear us all the way from his room!” 

“Oh you can count on that” Kylo smiled, and slowly, he thrust into his wife. 

Just the tip, for a start. It was slick, unlike their first night; it would be so easy to thrust all the way... but that could still hurt her, could frighten her, so he held back. 

But Rey didn’t feel pain. It was soft, smooth, and it stretched her entrance in a delicious way. She never knew it could feel so good to insert anything, down there. It felt better than fingers. On instinct, she raised her knees to ease his way into her. “More...” she begged. 

He continued, supporting her with his hand placed on the small of her back to guide himself inside. By God, she was so tight, slick and warm. He felt his cock twitch and fought the need to spread his seed here and now. He breathed deeply. If he didn’t immediately get a hold of himself, he’d be done for. Rey’s hand slid along his back to his ass, and pulled him closer; a sensual urge, a request. She wanted him inside her, entirely. It was the single sexiest move she’d done since they met. Sexier than stroking his cock, sexier than taking him in her mouth. Rey pulling him inside, legs open and nipples hard, with absolute determination. Tightening his hand on her back, he gave a final long thrust into her flesh. 

Rey let out a cry at the feeling of absolute fullness, and closed her eyes. 

“Are you all right?” Kylo whispered, worried. 

She nodded, yet he saw a tear on her eye lashes. “Please, stay,” She said. “Just give me… a moment.” 

He obeyed and froze. He felt her walls pulse around him. She was so soft, so pleasant. The feeling was divine. When he saw her chest still to more peaceful breathing, he slowly pulled out and then back in again, gently. 

She was slick and tight and burning hot around his length. He gave another slow thrust, then started a regular pace, that made her breasts jolt with each move. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open. There were no more tears. Her cheeks were flushed red. 

 _Flow and backflow, inside her, the tide on the beach… This is so different from our first night_ , Rey thought. It didn’t hurt. She felt stretched, somehow possessed, peculiarly full of him, but she wasn’t in pain. It was rather soft. There was no rubbing, no irritation, just a slick pendulum sliding inside her as if it was the most natural act in the world.  And dear God, it probably was the most natural act in the world. Their bodies felt made to interlock in such way, one into the other, skin to skin, mouth to mouth. Still shivering from her climax, she moaned at each thrust of her husband, lining up her breathing with the movement of his hips. 

So _this_ is sex. Fornication. The great evil all the young ladies were warned against. But how could this be evil? It was soft and good, and _burning_ , and she didn’t want him to stop. She now could identify the sensation, the pleasure inside her, the one that was violently rising when he licked her. But his time it was slower. It didn’t built with the same urge. She wasn’t sure it would make her climax as hard, but the experience was soothing. She wanted to kiss him, to taste him, but his mouth was preoccupied, sucking on her nipples with groans of bliss. She liked his almost-closed eyes, his warm cheeks and his shivering sighs. 

“Kylopold Benedict Soloren?”, she muttered, 

“My Lady?” 

“Do you love me?” 

He stopped moving to look at her and she kindly slapped his butt cheek. “Keep moving,” she demanded, “and answer the question.” 

He resumed, giving her a hard thrust for slapping his ass, and she threw her head back with a moan. 

“I love you, Irene of the Sands of Jakku. I love you with all my soul.” He said, breathless, against her neck. 

“Why do you love me?” 

“I love _you_ … I love your dignity, facing those vile ministers. I love your anger when you carry a sword. I…” His voice broke, as he found difficult to organize his train of thoughts. His hips rhythm became erratic. Yet he continued. “I love your boldness. I love your smile. I love… the taste of your skin. ” He licked under her ear, and she quivered. He was holding on to her hips, pounding into her, and she loved to feel him lose control. 

“More” She commanded. 

“I love… the taste of your cunt on my tongue. I love… how you scream when you come. And I… Oh, fuck, Irene, I can’t hold anymore!” And as he said these words, he groaned loudly, eyes shut, the face red and the fingers clenched, and Rey felt his body shake against hers as her belly filled with something warm that felt good. 

He fell down on her, crushing her under his weight, and she softly caressed his back, coaxing him down from his high. 

He turned his face towards her and kissed her deeply, biting her lips. “Rey, do you… Do you love me at all?” 

She kissed him back, cupping his face with both hands. A deep kiss, wet with tears and tongues. 

“I could learn to love you, Kylo Soloren…” She whispered then, against his mouth.

 


	4. The forty-sixth Night - part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning : Snoke is back and we hate him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is half a chapter.  
> Not because it was too long ; not because it gave too much information. Only because I enjoy the cliffhanger right THERE and I'm evil.  
> The other half is already translated and will be published soon. I only need to play with your nerves a little, you wonderful, amazing, and supporting crowd. ;-)  
> Please stay with me. Your comments mean the world to me, and make this whole "translating to English" burden bearable.

 

When Rey woke up, the bed was cold. It wasn’t unusual as her husband woke up early to hunt, train, or work with his ministers. 

As she sat up she felt nausea rise and barely managed to lean over the chamber pot to throw up. Why was she sick? Could she have eaten spoiled food? 

She stood up, her neck damp in a cold sweat, and ringed the little bell next to her bed. 

When Rose showed up, a few moments later, arms full with her Lady’s clothes, she found Rey on all fours, vomiting again into the chamber pot. 

Rose hurried next to her to hold her hair back and refresh her face with a wet sponge. 

“Why are you smiling?” Rey asked, puzzled. “I feel terrible.” 

“Quite the contrary, Madam. I think you are just fine. In fact, I think you will have great news to announce to Lord Soloren. I’m going to call the Queen-Mother.” 

Next thing Rey knew, she was groomed and clothed, mouth cleaned, and Lady Organa strode into her room with her arms wide open. 

“My Lady!” the old women cried out as she squeezed Rey tight. “What a wonderful news! My son must be immediately informed!” 

“But why?” Rey said, now irritated as everyone seemed to be taking joy in her feeling ill. “To tell him I am staying in bed because of a spoiled fish?!” 

Lady Organa laughed, her eyes sparkling. She looked genuinely happy, which pleased Rey of course, but only puzzled her more. 

“My sweet girl,” her mother-in-law said as she sat next to her on the bed. “You are with child!” 

“I am?” Rey repeated, bewildered. “But… how?” 

Lady Organa and Rose looked at her with tenderness. 

Rey remembered her husband’s words on their first night: “We will do it again and soon you’ll become pregnant.” So it was that… the burning feeling inside her core, the one that made her scream and lose her mind on Kylo’s cock and tongue, that impregnated her? 

An heir was the last condition of their contract. Their union could be cancelled if Rey turned out to be infertile. Of course she felt relieved. But would he still make love to her, now that the job was done?

“We have a lot to do to prepare for this child’s birth,” Lady Organa said, obviously delighted. “We must make an announcement, organize the succession, his titles, annuity and lands, his—“ 

“Please stop,” Rey whispered, feeling dizzy. “I’ve only known I’ve been carrying this child for a few minutes and you are already talking about succession and titles.” 

“Well we must at least inform the court and the Church,” Lady Organa objected. 

“All right,” Rey conceded, feeling exhausted at the sole idea of the agenda her mother-in-law was putting in place for the next twenty years. “But please give me the privilege to inform your son myself.” 

“Of course.” 

“Promise it.” 

Leia pat her hand:“I promise. You may inform the Lord, your husband, on his return from hunting.” 

She stood up and strode to the door: “I will now write an announcement for the court and the other kingdoms. And call for a doctor!” She added with a cheeky smile. “Let’s make sure you didn’t actually eat a spoiled fish!” 

The morning seemed to last forever to Rey, who kept looking through her windows for the knights to return. She couldn’t manage to focus her attention on anything: embroidery, reading, studying the exploitation schedule of the Mos Eisley Mines… She startled every time she thought she heard hoofs on the pavement and craned her neck to out the window check if it was him at last. 

She had her announcement prepared: her room has been staged, with fresh flowers and a baby crib she borrowed from a servant. 

When finally, she recognized his shape, riding his horse in the meadows, she ran into the stairs to meet him. But a group of men in red armor stood by the castle’s gate; the Archbishop’s guards. They only appeared on important occasions, implying absolute priority on the kingdom’s business. 

Rey bit the inside of her cheek. Her news would have to wait. 

From the high courtyard, above the castle walls, she saw the hunters ride their horses into the lower courtyard, under the gate. Kylopold waved to a stableboy to take care of his horse and quickly strode towards the castle walls, as he took off his gloves. Rey crossed the courtyard, glowing with joy, and happily waved to him. He smiled back but was stopped by the red guards on his way to her. They talked for a moment, then Kylopold crossed the crowd towards her and extended his hand. She took it. 

“My Lord”, she said, “Come to my chambers. I’d like to show you something.” 

Kylo laid a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Later, my Lady. The Archbishop summons us immediately; a private matter he needs to discuss with me… about you.” 

“Oh.” Rey frowned, a slight concern growing in her core. She only felt contempt and disgust, for this corrupt and libidinous old man. 

“Have your horse prepared,” Kylo instructed, as he knew how much Rey enjoyed riding.

Yet she shook her head, and tried to pull him towards the tower: “He’ll have to wait. Come with me. I need to talk to you.” 

Kylo gave her a puzzled gaze. “I can’t keep the Archbishop waiting. He is wise, and powerful. He is God’s messenger and, therefore, rules over us. He also is my protector, and I owe him my throne.” 

Rey winced. _You mean a despicable pervert!_ she thought. She would never forget his glare behind the curtain on that first night. 

Kylo softly kissed her and added, “He is also the one who came up with our union and arranged it. I understand your revulsion, but I owe him the honor of marrying you, my Lady. Let’s not keep him waiting.” 

And could she really argue with that? Rey’s shoulders sagged down. So be it. She’d make her announcement to Kylo on their return.

* * *

 

Rey felt a strange discomfort as she walked into the Archbishop’s palace. The building was grotesque, merging with the basilica like an octopus holding on to a rock. Transepts, towers, gargoyles, bas-relief and cut stones… the Archbishop seemed to be the worst kind of megalomaniac. The way his palace devoured the church over which it was built said a lot about his idea of power. And religion. 

Rey couldn’t see an entrance, and carefully followed her husband inside through a string of corridors and formal lounges. He obviously had been here before. They eventually ended up in what looked like a throne room heavily decorated with crimson stain-glass windows and blatant gold plated moldings.

 _No_ , Rey rectified. It was no throne room, it was a chapel, as wide as a church nave. Were they inside the basilica? She recognized a choir, the altar, the pulpit, the cross. Also, unexpectedly, eight red guards stood there, standing motionless in front of columns. At first sight, Rey had confused them for statues.

The Archbishop Snoke, wearing his usual gaudy gold, had his back turned to them, facing the altar and the gigantic cross behind it. He muttered a prayer.  
Kylopold didn’t interrupt, and reverently lowered himself to one knee. Lady Rey, shocked to see her proud husband submit like a servant, frustrated to delay her plans and annoyed by the bombastic situation, straightened her spine and stood tall and proud. If is was unseemly for a lady to show such boldness, so be it. And Kylopold didn’t try to tell her otherwise or force her into any attitude of subservience. He had been dealing with this woman on daily basis for more than a month now and knew better than give her instructions. In truth, he only loved her more for that. 

“Come closer, my Lady”, said the creeping voice of the priest. 

Rey sought for her husband’s eyes, but his were downcast. The total submission of this Lord to his priest was rather startling. 

Rey moved forward, her chin up. She stopped after a few steps and Snoke waved to her to come closer yet. Reluctantly, she closed the distance between them. 

The Archbishop extended his hand toward her; an enormous ruby shined on his finger. The tradition, and the reverence to his position, that was expected of Rey was to kneel and kiss the stone. Yet she didn’t move. She was in no mood for such submission and pretended not to understand what was required from her. All she wanted to go back to her castle, take her love’s hand into hers, lay it on her belly, and give him the happy news. He’d be so happy, he’d lift her in his arms and spin with joy. Maybe they’d make love, carried away by passion, in the middle of the day. 

Yet, instead of that, she was standing alone in the ice-cold nave, the old man’s wrinkly hand cupping her cheek and touching her hair. She shivered with disgust. “I was informed of the good news, my Lady”, he started. “I suppose I should congratulate you.” 

Rey frowned and quickly turned her face to Kylo, kneeling a couple yards behind her. He had raised his face in surprise. The young Lady bite her cheek; no special announcement for the father-to-be, then. This worthless piece of junk just ruined her secret. 

Snoke pursued, “This child will be your heir, and the legitimate king of both Kingdoms. Once his claim to the throne is confirmed, the fusion of the territories will not be contested again, from neither inside nor from outside. That’s why his life, and yours for the next months, must be protected at all costs.” Rey didn’t understand where this was going. Would he hire more guards to ensure her safety? “You carry in your womb the future of this Empire and its people,” said the old man. “I welcome the outcome of the union I decided for you both. You have met my expectations.” 

“What do you mean?” asked Rey, who still didn’t understand his point. 

“Your marriage has been arranged by me alone, down to its smallest detail, young lady. Each of your little ‘rebellions’ have served my goals. You of course seduced this nefarious young man, letting him under your skirts and between your legs night after night, willing him to plant his seed in your womb until it took root. All as planned and your lord and husband played his part with all the discipline and honor expected of him to me in insuring.. an heir to the Empire, and a king-to-be who will submissively serve my Church. 

Rey winced, feeling nauseous. Of course the wedding had been arranged. But the passion that burned her and her husband was overstepping the Archbishop’s every expectations. This despicable old man gave himself more importance than he really had. He was underestimating both of them.  

“My _daughter_ ” She insisted on that word, “will serve her Kingdom and her people. She will honor God and her faith, with all due respect to the church, but I will take care of her education myself.” 

“You are mistaken, my lady,” Snoke answered. “You played your part by insuring an heir to the throne. Your duty as queen shall bypass your whims, every time. Every decision concerning this child’s future will be taken by the chamber of the Lords, according to the interest of both Kingdoms.” Rey opened her mouth to protest, but Snoke kept her quiet with a wave of his hand. “The very first decision was taken this morning, in an exceptional council gathered as soon as the news was made public. I have the honor of sharing it with you.” 

“You have gathered a Council of Ministers to decide my child’s future without your own King?!” Rey burst out in shock. “How dare you!” 

“Oh, please, my lady,” Snoke smiled, showing his yellow teeth at Rey, “Kylopold is merely my puppet. A country squire. He only wears this crown because I gave it to him. In exchange for his total, and absolute, submission to me, of course. Don’t tell me you had no idea?” 

Rey felt speechless, and turned to her husband. He avoided her gaze, his eyelids burning red and his breath short. 

“Stand up, Benedict Soloren,” The Archbishop instructed. 

Kylo obeyed and stepped forward, until he stood next to his wife. 

“Kylo…” Rey breathed between shivering lips. 

But he refused to look at her. 

“The council of Ministers worked all morning on the essential matter that is your succession, young man” Snoke started, and Rey noticed he didn’t even bother to give him his titles anymore. “Given the… fiery attitude of the female, carrying in her womb the future of the kingdom, it’s been determined she is a danger to herself, and the child.” 

Rey choked, “How dare you?!” 

Yet Snoke resumed, moving his hand in a disdainful way. “Fencing, horseback riding, hunting… all activities endangering the duties of her sex and her pregnancy. In her own interest, it’s been decided to protect the lady from her own impulsivity.” 

He extended his arm to a document on the altar, a piece of parchment Rey hadn’t noticed until now. “This is a confinement order in the Sisters of Piety convent. She will find in peace and prayer the rightful rest necessary to the growth and ripening of _our_ heir. Once the baby is delivered and given to my Church, she will be free to either crawl back into your bed to continue to fulfill her marital duties, or remain in the quietness of the convent to soothe the lustful fire inside her soul. Your seal is already on the confinement order; only your signature is missing.” 

“Kylo, my love, please don’t do this…” Rey breathed. 

But avoiding her eyes, the young King walked up to the altar and took the quill pen the Archbishop was offering him.

 

 


	5. The fourty-sixth Night - part 2

A sour tear rolled on Rey’s cheek. 

“You have no power over him, you silly girl!” The Archbishop hissed. “You are merely a pawn on my chessboard. And now that I no longer have a use for you, my pupil will sign this docu-” 

He never finished this sentence. 

His words drowned in a disgraceful gurgle and blood gushed out of his mouth, soaking his golden cassock and the black brocade of Kylopold’s suit, as the young Lord swiftly removed his dagger from his throat. 

The Archbishop raised his hands to his neck, unable to believe what had just happened. His eyes opened wide, between terror and disbelief. Kylo was holding him by the front of his golden gown, uncaring of the streams of blood spurting on his clothes and his hands… 

Suddenly he struck again, diving his blade into the priest’s stomach, lifting it through his guts. Snoke’s irises lost their color, and he crumbled down. Kylo let him fall on the floor, a disjointed and flabby shape inside his blatant gown. 

Then, slowly, he turned around, face-to-face with Rey for the first time since they entered the palace. She was looking at him with horror and fascination, motionless and pale, her cheeks wet with her tears. Kylopold holding on to his dagger handed his sword to her, and both rotated to face the fully armored knights attacking them. 

Eight against two, and yet… 

Irene of the Sands of Jakku had been raised as a warrior, trained from a young age in fencing and archery. Kylopold Soloren of the First Order, destined to rule, was no stranger to combat, and was known as the Kingdom’s most skillful knight. However, the Archbishop’s guards weren’t beginners either, and Rey was pregnant. But far from feeling weak, she felt an unknown rage grow in her guts. Nothing, and no one, was more lethal than a mother fighting to protect her child, and the love of her life. 

Grabbing the gold crozier of the Archbishop, she countered the first attack and tossed Kylo the sword of the first knight to fall under her strikes. 

They now both carried weapons, and were ready to die protecting each other. In the frenzied fight, as they were outnumbered, Rey and Kylo ended up back to back. He felt her heat, the prickly smell of her sweat in the fever of the action, the caress of her hair, and it made him stronger. Kylo’s sword ripped through flesh, sliced limbs, broke bones. Rey’s sword opened throats, split skulls, and leached below armors. She cursed her heavy velvet gown, whose pompous sleeved restrained her movements. Kylo’s heart missed a beat when he heard her scream aloud, pushed away from his sight by her enemies furious strokes. Terror filled his veins, at the idea of losing her, and he lost his focus. Distraught and enraged, he channeled his anger, his hate towards Snoke, his humiliation, his despair and the fear that devoured him to strike faster and stronger. Rey had a wound on her arm, a stream of blood soaked her sleeve, yet she barely felt the pain. Kylo was cornered, alone against two, and the Sand Princess, gathering her all her strength, managed to push back the soldier attacking her and with a strong punch, broke his neck. The armored body crumpled loudly on the floor tiles. Rey, disheveled, covered with sweat, her whole body sore, turned to Kylopold. Her heart stopped. 

Kylo was in trouble. Held Prisoner of a guard, he was being choked with the gold crozier, while he struggled to counter the attacks of a second warrior. His arm was weak, his face red. He wouldn’t hold much longer. 

He was going to die. 

Rey did not have time to consider the consequences of being a widow, neither on herself, as she couldn’t imagine being away from him anymore; nor on their unborn child, as convent would probably become her best option then. 

She cried out of rage, despair, and sorrow, and tossed her dagger, as hard as she could.

The blade hissed through the air and stung into the back of the neck of the armored man, splashing Kylo’s face with his blood. As the other guard wavered out of surprise, Kylo pushed back the crozier that was crushing his throat, freed himself from his grip, and swept his blade behind him, cutting through his guts. The guard’s belly opened and poured out to the floor, in an obnoxious gurgle of blood and entrails. 

It was the last of the red guards. 

Only then, did Rey realize she was hurt, covered in bruises and blood. Someone else’s blood. 

She came closer to Kylo, lugging her sword behind her, breathing painfully. 

Kylo then threw his blade on the floor, and striding towards her, took her face into his hand and passionately kissed her. She tasted like salt and blood. As he pulled back to breathe, his lips shining from their kiss, he muttered with a smile, “A child, my Lady? When I thought you couldn’t make me happier…” 

“I love you, Kylopold Soloren,” Rey muttered feeling overwhelmed by  sudden emotion.

She closed her arms around his neck, desperate to touch him, to kiss him. She didn’t care about the blood staining his clothes. She didn’t care about the sweat on his skin. She needed to feel him, to be full of him or she would never find peace again. She had almost lost him. They tried to part them forever, first through a convent, then through death. Yet they survived. The remnants of the terror she felt still burned her core, and she felt her body crave his touch. She needed him close or she would collapse, overwhelmed by her emotions and the adrenaline rush. 

Kylo seemed to feel the same. His lips became ferocious as he kissed her mouth, her face, her neck and her throat, desperate hands eagerly seeking an opening to her clothes. She stumbled backwards under his caresses, holding on to his lips, her heart beating hard. She fiercely wanted him. Her core was softly pulsing as he kissed her more, moaning her name as a prayer, and lifted the hem of her heavy gown. He grabbed her ass, under the dress, as Rey’s back hit a column. 

Feverish, thirsty almost, she struggled against Kylo’s brocade pants rubbing on her belly. She pulled a cord, ripped a button, stuffed her hand inside and groaned in relief as she closed her fist on his hard and wet cock. Expectation made her shudder, damp and ready for him, willing him to fuck her to the point of brutality, inside this damned church, surrounded by the warm corpses of those who dared try to separate them. 

Kylo grabbed her thighs and lifted her up and her back against the column, never letting go off her mouth, in brutal kisses. Rey opened her legs, held on to Kylo’s shoulders, and let him guide her on his shaft as she cried out in delight. 

He immediately gave a hard thrust; hitting her cervix and making her breasts shake, pulled back and thrust again, not caring to breathe. 

He fucked her with the same passion and the same rage he murdered his opponents just a few moments before. Brutal, on instinct, with deep and desperate, powerful thrusts. Rey didn’t try to stop her moans. The acoustic in the basilica was rather amazing; she could hear Kylo’s skin slap into her own, echoing all the way to the transepts. After nine murders, including a Man of God, her soul was probably damned anyway… she could let herself go, without restraint, to her burning lust. What was to lose? Live with passion and intensity, love the man that was impaling her on his cock, and raise their children. 

As he dug his nails into her hips, Kylo couldn’t find peace. He felt a violent urge to fuck and to cum, to possess her body, to make her his own. For a moment he had thought he’d lost her, and his world had collapsed. His crown was worthless if Rey wasn’t sitting with him. His honor meant nothing if the love of his life was covered in infamy. He needed her as much as he needed air, and he had to feel her, against him, inside her. Still nervous from the fight, he pumped into his wifel, groaning with bliss and anger, restless. His body had been shaken too hard, the adrenaline pumped too fast into his veins, death too close for him to be able to come back down from his heightened state. 

His mind turned primal: _Fuck Rey again, and again, and again. Harder. Slam her back against the column. Cover her lips with hungry kisses. Feel his cock inside her burning core. Harden more, even though he thought he was ready to explode. Seek climax to seek relief_. 

She was screaming against his cheek screams of bliss, begging him to continue and oh no, he wasn’t done yet. Another hard thrust and he pulled out, feeling his cock rub her stomach as she fell out of his arms. He wavered for a moment, considering lifting her back against the column, but she managed to say, “The altar. Behind you.” 

He turned around and saw the stone table she was pointing to. Rey was dragged toward the altar, folded over the parchment that was meant to imprison her forever, and felt the hem of her dress being lifted over her ass. The cold air of the church dried the sweat on her skin and she shivered, but Kylo left her no time to complain. He thrust into her again, from behind, digging his nails into her hips, and started pumping into her with an unusual ferocity.

This was just what she needed. Crushed down to the stone, her fingers crumbling the offending parchment, Rey savored his eagerness. He had made love to her tenderly. He had initiated her to sensuality. But today, he was releasing an excruciating physical need, letting go off something that held him prisoner for too long. Years of being humiliated by his mentor. Years of lowering his eyes yet knowing he wasn’t fooling anyone when he pretended to be their Lord. He was free at last and along with him, Rey was now free, too. Their burning, tangled bodies sealed a new pact. 

Rey wanted to come, hoping for her climax to bring her relief. Her body was on fire, and her screams echoed to the ceiling high above her. Kylo felt a hot stream build in his balls as he rocked back and forth with each thrust. It rose into his cock in waves, grow stronger. He was close. His groans echoed his wife’s. He increased his pace, desperately seeking the touch, the one spark that would release him at last. 

Rey slipped a hand between her thighs and pressed her middle finger against the swollen nub of her clit. She rubbed and pinched it, massaging as hard as she could bear, moaning in delight, feeling her inner walls clench at her hand’s pace.

“Kylo, I’m coming!” She cried out on instinct. “More…oh please…fuck me harder! Yes!” 

She threw her head behind and arched her back as her orgasm washed over her.

Her legs shook as her cunt contracted briskly on his cock and Kylo joined her in climax, jerking off in hot spurts deep inside her. His eyes rolled and he crumbled over her, suddenly exhausted. 

They both now felt empty, breathless, boneless and feverish, and slowly slid to the floor as their knees failed them. They felt relieved. The tension had been thrust away and they slowly came back to reality, realizing what just happened. 

Rey was still clamping the imprisonment order into her fist. She stood up first, extended her hand to Kylo to help him up, and adjusted her dress. Once done, she calmly walked to the gaudy chandelier enlightening the church and burned the document in its flame. 

That’s when Huxley entered the basilica. 

He understood the situation at first sight: the corpse of the Archbishop, eight dismembered bodies in red armor, guts and flesh staining the floor, the smell of blood, sweat and sex, and finally the document being burned in the flame. 

“By all the Saints!” He cried out, as he retreated towards the doors. “You… you killed his Excellency! I… you deserve the scaffold! Guards!” 

He was screaming and turned around to run away, yet didn’t see the pool of blood on the tiles and slipped, falling harshly to the ground with desperate waves of his arms. 

The tip of a sword stung the delicate skin of his neck, preventing him from standing up.

It was Rey. 

“I don’t know what stops me from killing you too, you worthless bastard. And washing my honor in your filthy blood!”

Kylo approached behind her, towering the Minister of Armies. 

“We could cut your throat open right now, and set this castle on fire,” Kylo stated. “Or… we could let you go alive.” 

He peeked at Rey, who raised her brows with a smirk. 

Kylo resumed, “Snoke has been found guilty of treason and conspiracy against his king. The sentence - death- has already been served. I shall now be the new head of the Imperial Church. My new church does not acknowledge the authority of the archdiocese and its clergy. Taxes will be paid to the State. I shall name the Priests myself. The religious dogmas will be adjusted. The virginity claiming rituals are abolished starting now, and penal servitude will be sentenced for law breakers.” 

Rey bit the inside of her cheek to keep a straight face. This was all very formal. She’d kiss him senseless later. Kylo wasn’t finished yet. 

“I therefore dissolve the assembly of Ministers and declare myself ruler of both kingdoms. My wife, the queen, Leader of the Sands Federation, will sit on my right and have the same power I will over the state and the people. Tomorrow, we shall name new ministers.” 

Rey poked Huxley’s Adam’s apple for good measure, piercing a bead of blood into his skin. The Minister’s breath was short and wheezing. The smell of urine started to waft through the air. 

“Questions, Huxley?” Kylo asked, tipping his head. “The Archbishop is dead... “ 

“Long live Archbishop Soloren and his Queen!” Huxley stuttered. 

“That’s right. Now get to work. And don’t forget: Snoke paid his treason with his life, and he was protected by eight guards. How many guards are protecting you, sir?” 

“Errr… none, your Highness.” Huxley said as he lowered his eyes. 

Then you should refrain from betraying me. Now get out!” 

Rey lifted her blade and Huxley stood up, on shaking knees. A large, wet pool damped the front of his pants. 

He ran out of the basilica, slipping here and there on blood pools. 

Kylo picked up a candlestick and set a velvet curtain on fire. Flames grew fast, and soon the whole church was burning. 

Rey extended her elbow to her husband, and together, they walked out of the basilica. 

 

Behind them: the roaring blaze, hellish, that would burn Snoke’s castle to ashes. 

Ahead of them: their two kingdoms united for better or for worse, and the promise of peace. 

And beneath Kylo’s hand, inside Rey’s womb: their future, coming to life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE THRONE ROOM SEX WE DESEEEERVE!!!
> 
> Thanks to all of you reader for your kudos and comments. It helped me through the burden of translating to English.  
> And Special Thanks to AuroraNoirInStardust who betaed me on this ficlet. Without her, the story would not have been quite as smooth!
> 
> Squeeeezes to Luciefée who prompted me with this idea.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are cool, comments are everything!  
> Support a writer, leave a comment!  
> And join me on twitter or tumblr? check for @elopez7228 for NSFW reylo art and fictions! ;-)


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